Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. Well, duh!
A/N: Hi again! Another horrifically fluffy fic with compliments from myself. Ok, so this needs a little explaining- it's the last few chapters from Hermione's autobiography- a little bit like The Hobbit/ There and Back Again only without the Hobbits (obviously). It is totally shipped in transports of Hermione 3 Ron, and is totally cheesy, but please review or I won't bother putting up a new chapter. Oh yeah, and anyone wondering when I'm going to bother putting up any more of Hermione's Secrets or Life After Hogwarts, I'm sorry, but you're just gonna have to be patient and wait for the muses to visit. Yours,
Hermione Double.
My Life (So Far!)
Chapter 1
Dreams.
You know, I think he had always known how I felt about him. That was why we always fought, and why it always hurt. I had been one of his best friends for years and one of his enemies for even longer.
When we left Hogwarts the previous year, it hit me, hard in the face. He was so much more than a friend. So much more. But it was too late by then. For he seemed to be in love with someone: and that someone wasn't me. No, that someone was a Miss Sally-Anne Perks: a fellow Gryffindor, who, to my dismay, was extremely popular and pretty. I had never really got to know her during our school years. I had always maintained that she was incredibly shallow - someone I called "a Queen Snob of the Planet Popular," whom had no real sense of self, just someone who played up to her adoring "friends". On reflection, I realised that she may have been quite nice, just perhaps slightly superficial, and that maybe I had been jealous of the way everyone tailed her, copying her every move. I had never been popular, having been to "smart", and admittedly "a bit of a know-it-all." I tried hard to remove that label, but it was stuck with such strong a glue it would never peel away, for that was who I was. I would now die before changing myself so people would like me better.
Mind you, I did with Ron. I tried everything so as to make him see me in a different light, but he was too blind, too dense, to understand I loved him. I was just the Intelligent One who would help him with his homework every now and then, and nothing more than that. Oh, he made sure of that, via our blazing arguments every other day. Yet my feelings had never changed, but I had to make do with being his friend (although perhaps slightly begrudgingly.)
They became inseparable, another reason for my disliking her. She had, in a way, split apart the infamous trio of Ron, Harry and Hermione, now it was Harry and Hermione, and Ron and Sally-Anne.
It made me sick to see them together, and then I felt guilt, for he seemed so happy, and surely, if he felt happy, and I cared for him as I did, then I should feel happy for him too?
'So, how come you aren't seeing Sally-Anne today?' Harry, Ron and I were in one of the clubs in Hogsmeade after work and the thread of conversations had started to spin into that of relationships. I didn't know this would be one of the most important nights of my life.
'She said she was busy..' Did this mean what I thought it meant? Were they really growing apart?
'Doing what?' I asked, trying to keep my voice from sounding too ecstatic, merely curious.
'Work.' It still seemed amazing to me she had even managed to get a job, being so unintelligent. Then it occurred to me that I should not be having these thoughts. He was my best friend, after all.
'Oh, well. What about you Harry? Anything new on the relationship front?'
'No.' it seemed I had touched a sore spot. He had recently had an extremely messy break-up with Cho Chang, and although he had always been quite popular with the girls, he had a hard time trying to hold down a relationship. So did I, come to that.
I had had the odd boyfriend, just nothing that serious, feeling my career was more important than getting a boyfriend at this moment in time. I had spent a lot of time dwelling over Ron, but I was over it now. I had my own life and I convinced myself he would not mess it up.
We changed the subject, as we all (well, perhaps not Ron,) found the subject pretty depressing. We were still in contact after leaving Hogwarts, which had been one of my biggest fears, but we were slipping away. We had all made other friends through work, and these social gatherings of the three of us had become a rarity.
'So how's practise coming along?'
'Quite good.' He screamed over the loud music of "Charmed", the nightclub we would occasionally visit. Ron had recently been made Keeper of Chudley Cannons. I was so proud of him- it had always been his dream to become a professional Quidditch player. Harry had the ability to join Ron, but although he was passionate about it, he had decided to go into the Ministry of Magic as an Auror. As for me- I danced from job to job- I got bored so easily. I had no idea of what career to follow. At that moment in time I also worked at the Ministry, but that was not where my heart lay. I had thought about teaching, but what I really wanted to do was write. I scribbled down anything and everything, on the corners of serviettes to the back of the Daily Prophet. But still, none of my work had been published, and my life was in a mess.
'D'you want to come round ours, 'Mione?' The two shared a house just outside of Hogsmeade, and I was more than happy to visit, so we walked the few streets to the pretty large house belonging to my best friends.
We walked into what looked like a bombsite.
'Soz 'bout the state, 'Mione, we haven't had much time to tidy lately,' said Ron. He seemed slightly drunk.
'That's ok,' I said, removing Ron's broomstick from the sofa in order for me to sit down.
'Want a drink, 'Mione?' asked Harry, on his way to retrieve some cans of Mulled Mead from the kitchen.
'No thanks,' I said slightly disapprovingly.
'Suit yourself,' he said, throwing Ron a can of The Old Drunk Monk's Mystical Mead.
'So, written anything new lately?' Ron asked, between long swigs.
'Hmm. I don't know what to do. I hate it at the Ministry, but I haven't got anything to write about.' I said, deep in thought. What could I write about? People always say it's best to write about what you know. What did I know? Well- just some stuff. I thought about the stuff that had happened in my life so far. Well, to start off I was a witch- which I regard as pretty interesting. I was best friends with two very famous wizards-in love with one of them- more interestingness- well, what If I wrote the story of my life- like a dramatised autobiography? YES! Now that WOULD be interesting! That was it! Finally, I had my story! Thank God for the red-haired muse sat right in front of me!
'Argh, you could do anyfin'- you're well clever 'Mione.' He said, sipping more mead. I swelled with pride, making notes in my head about my future masterpiece. Now it's on paper. It's very strange to see all your thoughts, feelings and emotions go down in black and white.
'Jus' 'member me when you're rich and famous,' he continued.
'You're already rich and famous Ron. You play Quidditch, remember?'
'Oh, yeah.I forgot,' he said pensively, while Harry laughed.
'Look, Ron I think you've had enough to drink,' I said.
'Last one, promise, 'Mi'ne,'
I rolled my eyes. Even when drunk he was cute. Ron and Harry carried on conversing about Quidditch, while I amused myself over how great it would be to see my book on the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. Fantasies slipped into dreams as I fell asleep on the sofa.
A/N: Hi again! Another horrifically fluffy fic with compliments from myself. Ok, so this needs a little explaining- it's the last few chapters from Hermione's autobiography- a little bit like The Hobbit/ There and Back Again only without the Hobbits (obviously). It is totally shipped in transports of Hermione 3 Ron, and is totally cheesy, but please review or I won't bother putting up a new chapter. Oh yeah, and anyone wondering when I'm going to bother putting up any more of Hermione's Secrets or Life After Hogwarts, I'm sorry, but you're just gonna have to be patient and wait for the muses to visit. Yours,
Hermione Double.
My Life (So Far!)
Chapter 1
Dreams.
You know, I think he had always known how I felt about him. That was why we always fought, and why it always hurt. I had been one of his best friends for years and one of his enemies for even longer.
When we left Hogwarts the previous year, it hit me, hard in the face. He was so much more than a friend. So much more. But it was too late by then. For he seemed to be in love with someone: and that someone wasn't me. No, that someone was a Miss Sally-Anne Perks: a fellow Gryffindor, who, to my dismay, was extremely popular and pretty. I had never really got to know her during our school years. I had always maintained that she was incredibly shallow - someone I called "a Queen Snob of the Planet Popular," whom had no real sense of self, just someone who played up to her adoring "friends". On reflection, I realised that she may have been quite nice, just perhaps slightly superficial, and that maybe I had been jealous of the way everyone tailed her, copying her every move. I had never been popular, having been to "smart", and admittedly "a bit of a know-it-all." I tried hard to remove that label, but it was stuck with such strong a glue it would never peel away, for that was who I was. I would now die before changing myself so people would like me better.
Mind you, I did with Ron. I tried everything so as to make him see me in a different light, but he was too blind, too dense, to understand I loved him. I was just the Intelligent One who would help him with his homework every now and then, and nothing more than that. Oh, he made sure of that, via our blazing arguments every other day. Yet my feelings had never changed, but I had to make do with being his friend (although perhaps slightly begrudgingly.)
They became inseparable, another reason for my disliking her. She had, in a way, split apart the infamous trio of Ron, Harry and Hermione, now it was Harry and Hermione, and Ron and Sally-Anne.
It made me sick to see them together, and then I felt guilt, for he seemed so happy, and surely, if he felt happy, and I cared for him as I did, then I should feel happy for him too?
'So, how come you aren't seeing Sally-Anne today?' Harry, Ron and I were in one of the clubs in Hogsmeade after work and the thread of conversations had started to spin into that of relationships. I didn't know this would be one of the most important nights of my life.
'She said she was busy..' Did this mean what I thought it meant? Were they really growing apart?
'Doing what?' I asked, trying to keep my voice from sounding too ecstatic, merely curious.
'Work.' It still seemed amazing to me she had even managed to get a job, being so unintelligent. Then it occurred to me that I should not be having these thoughts. He was my best friend, after all.
'Oh, well. What about you Harry? Anything new on the relationship front?'
'No.' it seemed I had touched a sore spot. He had recently had an extremely messy break-up with Cho Chang, and although he had always been quite popular with the girls, he had a hard time trying to hold down a relationship. So did I, come to that.
I had had the odd boyfriend, just nothing that serious, feeling my career was more important than getting a boyfriend at this moment in time. I had spent a lot of time dwelling over Ron, but I was over it now. I had my own life and I convinced myself he would not mess it up.
We changed the subject, as we all (well, perhaps not Ron,) found the subject pretty depressing. We were still in contact after leaving Hogwarts, which had been one of my biggest fears, but we were slipping away. We had all made other friends through work, and these social gatherings of the three of us had become a rarity.
'So how's practise coming along?'
'Quite good.' He screamed over the loud music of "Charmed", the nightclub we would occasionally visit. Ron had recently been made Keeper of Chudley Cannons. I was so proud of him- it had always been his dream to become a professional Quidditch player. Harry had the ability to join Ron, but although he was passionate about it, he had decided to go into the Ministry of Magic as an Auror. As for me- I danced from job to job- I got bored so easily. I had no idea of what career to follow. At that moment in time I also worked at the Ministry, but that was not where my heart lay. I had thought about teaching, but what I really wanted to do was write. I scribbled down anything and everything, on the corners of serviettes to the back of the Daily Prophet. But still, none of my work had been published, and my life was in a mess.
'D'you want to come round ours, 'Mione?' The two shared a house just outside of Hogsmeade, and I was more than happy to visit, so we walked the few streets to the pretty large house belonging to my best friends.
We walked into what looked like a bombsite.
'Soz 'bout the state, 'Mione, we haven't had much time to tidy lately,' said Ron. He seemed slightly drunk.
'That's ok,' I said, removing Ron's broomstick from the sofa in order for me to sit down.
'Want a drink, 'Mione?' asked Harry, on his way to retrieve some cans of Mulled Mead from the kitchen.
'No thanks,' I said slightly disapprovingly.
'Suit yourself,' he said, throwing Ron a can of The Old Drunk Monk's Mystical Mead.
'So, written anything new lately?' Ron asked, between long swigs.
'Hmm. I don't know what to do. I hate it at the Ministry, but I haven't got anything to write about.' I said, deep in thought. What could I write about? People always say it's best to write about what you know. What did I know? Well- just some stuff. I thought about the stuff that had happened in my life so far. Well, to start off I was a witch- which I regard as pretty interesting. I was best friends with two very famous wizards-in love with one of them- more interestingness- well, what If I wrote the story of my life- like a dramatised autobiography? YES! Now that WOULD be interesting! That was it! Finally, I had my story! Thank God for the red-haired muse sat right in front of me!
'Argh, you could do anyfin'- you're well clever 'Mione.' He said, sipping more mead. I swelled with pride, making notes in my head about my future masterpiece. Now it's on paper. It's very strange to see all your thoughts, feelings and emotions go down in black and white.
'Jus' 'member me when you're rich and famous,' he continued.
'You're already rich and famous Ron. You play Quidditch, remember?'
'Oh, yeah.I forgot,' he said pensively, while Harry laughed.
'Look, Ron I think you've had enough to drink,' I said.
'Last one, promise, 'Mi'ne,'
I rolled my eyes. Even when drunk he was cute. Ron and Harry carried on conversing about Quidditch, while I amused myself over how great it would be to see my book on the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. Fantasies slipped into dreams as I fell asleep on the sofa.